A Stranger in the Village
by Fullmetal-Soul
Summary: He loved his wife- but he loved chaos as well. Seeing a golden opportunity, Truth decided to mix things up. Instead of a fangirl going to Amestris, how about we use a deranged serial killer? This fic was adopted from VampireFrootloopsRule.
1. Prologue

_**Stranger in the Village**_

The night was peaceful, quiet, but that would soon change. Soon the air would be filled with beautiful screams of pain and terror; soon the concrete would be stained red with the blood of the innocent.

_No…that isn't right…_ the mastermind stopped in his acts of rewiring the inside of the power grid box. Such foolish people to put all this important equipment in one place barely guarded with ten men with tiny AK's. It was hardly a challenging enterprise for one with his abilities.

But he digressed, his mind had wandered again. He was thinking how those that lived in this large city of New York weren't innocent. How could they be? With their speedy lumber, they barely had enough time for their morning coffee, let alone take pride in the small things in life. Like his beautiful wife, Lynnette.

She had been perfect…hair dark and silky, eyes a crystal blue. And her smile… It lit up this world, and now it was gone, plunging the world into darkness without it. Taken by the cruel hands of fate from him. And yet…somehow no one noticed. None but he could see how the color had bled from the world. None but he had heard the deafening silence left behind.

None but he had mourned her passing.

Well, that was a mistake soon to be rectified. He had rigged this power grid to overload within minutes. The electricity would run rampant through the wires, causing fires, power outages, and basic chaos. If they would not mourn for his dear Lynnette, they would mourn for each other. With that thought firmly set within his consciousness, he clipped the last wire into place.

The symphony of chaos brought on by the sudden darkness was beautiful. Cars squealed to a stop by crashing into another car, screams of pain and terror rang as pedestrians were caught crossing the street by uncontrollable vehicles. Deep below the surface, blood would surely flood the subway tunnels with no one making sure the speeding rockets didn't collide with one another.

The orchestrator of all this chaos closed his eyes, letting his mind be the canvas as his ears painted the picture.

"For you, my beautiful Lynnette." He whispered. His face grew a dreamy smile as he left the device that had taken away the electricity and climbed up to the top of the building and onto the roof. From this vantage point, he could see it all.

But…It wasn't enough! There should be more; more blood, more terror, and more death!

"Time for phase two." He hissed, anger flaring within his light brown eyes. He reached into his pocket to take out the second remote in his possession, and pressed the button. Below him, the bomb he had attached onto the generator detonated and sent a shockwave billowing outward, shattering window glass, alarms caused to blare into the night, and the foundation of the building shifting under the man's feet. He didn't mind; he knew that the destruction of this building, especially this _particular_ and important building, would devastate so many that it would get the results he wished. Without any power and without the building to even try and salvage any remnants of the machine that controlled it, all of the city would be in ruin. What was one death of his in comparison to the death of so many? It would only add to the chaos, and that was what he wanted.

"For you, my Lynnette…" He whispered once more as he closed his eyes and soaked in the screams of the many. The building creaked once more before it finally collapsed, taking the orchestrator with it into destruction.

* * *

A white expanse stretched before the man as he opened his dark eyes again. _What is this?_He pondered to himself, _where are the screams? The chaos?!_

"Where am I?" He whispered aloud.

"That is unimportant, really."

He whirled around to face the owner of the voice, startled to see that it belonged to a faceless, featureless figure only distinguishable by his outline. And, of course the giant, toothy grin expanding across his entire visage. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Oh I love it when people ask!" the figure said excitedly. "Well, I am many things, and I am nothing. I am truth, I am lies. I am one, I am all, and I am also you." With this last word, he pointed to the orchestrator before him, his smile growing to impossible lengths.

"Alright..." He said, not believing a word but not knowing what else to do than keep inquiring. "And why am I here? For what purpose?"

"Inquisitive, aren't you? Well I see no harm in sharing. I want to see how your presence may affect things."

"What things?"

"Everything, of course! And since you are dead, there is no harm in your transfer."

"You are not making any sense..." The man informed, crossing his arms in frustration.

"Perhaps, but again, that is irrelevant. What is relevant is that you do what you are needed to do, and that is creating chaos. You are quite good at that." Truth shrugged, "You even died creating it."

"What makes you believe I will do what you want?" the man demanded crossly, but then he gasped as another figure floated before him. "Lynnette?" He breathed.

"Do what I ask and you may have her back. But if not..."

The man's hand reached out to the woman he loved, the only one able to tame the cacophony within him. But, when his hand was a mere inch away, the apparition dissipated into thin air.

"You will receive nothing, and you will die alone." The grin turned malicious as those dark eyes turned to him, no resistance within their depths. Truth had full control now. "Let the game begin, my Chaos."

* * *

**I didn't write this prologue but I got permission from VampireFrootloopsRule to put it here. Now please review!**


	2. Wake

**This fic was adopted by VampireFrootloopsRule, a very awesome writer who constantly rocks my socks.**

* * *

Chapter One

Wake

_In all chaos, there is a cosmos- in all disorder, a secret order._

_Carl Jung, "Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious"_

The citizens of Amestris were used to strange things happening, what with all the alchemy and the unfortunate rebounds that occurred on the regular basis. Today, however, was a different affair entirely. Around three o' clock in the morning, everyone who was awake felt a cold creep down their spines, and linger in their bellies before slinking down to their toes and spreading across the floor.

Those who were asleep jolted upright in their beds, panting and clutching their hearts. For they had sworn they'd felt chapped lips next to their ear, and heard a malicious voice sneer _"It's about to begin."_

Naturally, everyone had simply excused it as a cold front rolling through, a simple nightmare, or whatever else they could think of to cease the pounding in their chest. Slowly, the citizens went back to sleep, and forgot about the experience all together.

If only they had remembered…

* * *

He woke up in the middle of a grassy field. Tiny dandelion seeds floated lazily in the air, glowing ivory in the early morning rays. It was so peaceful-the picture of tranquility.

It was a shame about what he was going to do next.

Like a wraith, he rose to his feet, crushing an anthill as he went. The man stared down at the ants crawling around rapidly around his loafers. Lynette had adored the ants, had scolded him whenever he trampled their homes and even let them crawl up her fingers to rest in her palms. Unconsiously, his pale face twisted into a sneer Personally, he thought they were wastes of matter. Ants were just another thing to be crushed.

The man plucked two sticks from the ground and expertly started a fire. Two torches in hand, he walked around the field, setting the fragile grass ablaze. The flames swirled around magnificently, reaching out with blackened fingers to curl around the rising sun and choking out the virgin light. He smiled and continued to paint his fiery masterpiece, the withered husks of unfortunate ants in his wake.

* * *

**I'm posting another chapter in a couple hours. I wanted to see if people liked it! Now review or I won't post until tomorrow (Then you won't get to witness Ed ^w^).**


	3. Too Close for Comfort

**Plot development time! *dances around to Rewrite in the background***

**Sister: It's too early to act like an FMA whore…**

* * *

Chapter Two

Too Close for Comfort

_No matter how dreary and grey our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home._

_L. Frank Baum,_ The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

The Fullmetal Alchemist grinned at his superior evilly. "Since I cleaned up your mess without you screaming at me, you owe me one, Bastard!"

Colonel Mustang glanced warily at the sparkle floating ominously by Ed's left ear. "A shudder just went down my spine…" l

"Glad to help! Now, could you point me and Al to a good library or someone who's an expert at biological transmutation? Don't tell me there aren't any!"

The Colonel straightened in his high-backed leather chair. "I won't confirm nor deny it. You have to do one thing for me, Fullmetal."

Ed wilted into his chair. "Dammit, what is it now? I all ready apprehended a gang of would-be assassins for your ass. What could it possible be wrong _now_?"

Mustang pulled open one of the desk's many file cabinets and pulled out a manila folder, passing it to the pouting blonde. "Yesterday someone set fire to a field around three thirty a.m."

Ed snatched the folder out of his hands and flipped disinterestedly through the crime pictures. "So what? Knowing you, you went out there yourself and torched the place in some wacky scheme to get promoted."

The suit of armor next to him let out a squeak. "Brother, the colonel would never do such a thing!"

"Al, are we talking about the same person here?"

A vein throbbed in the Flame Alchemist's forehead dangerously. "Look at the last picture." He said gruffly. I have a feeling you know what it is."

He huffed loudly and thumbed through the black and white photos until he came across a- no, that couldn't be right. Ed squinted and brought the image closer to his face. "Holy shit… this is a human transmutation circle!"

Mustang smirked smugly at him. "One of our photographers managed to get a perfect shot of the circle by climbing up a nearby ridge. Apparently, whoever did this was either planning on doing the taboo or simply wanted to scare the locals."

Al futilely tried to retrieve the file from Ed's automail hand. "Colonel, where exactly was this taken?"

The man thought about it for a second. "I'm fairly certain it was in the general vicinity of the Slums."

Ed, suddenly releasing the papers he had been clutching, stood up and bowed- _bowed_ to the colonel. "You'll have to tell me about this later." His golden bangs obscured his face. "Al, let's go."

The armor was clutching the sheaf of papers to his chest. "Bro-"

"Dammit, Alphonse, I said let's _**go**_!" Ed snatched the file out of his brother's giant hands and threw it in the Bastard's face, sending photos flying. He pulled his Al out by the plume of his helmet, automail foot clanking ominously against the wooden floor.

* * *

Ed was too deep inside his head to notice the strange looks he was getting from the soldiers in Mustang's building.

"Brother, you're going to pull off my helmet!" Al whined piteously. "Everyone will notice I'm hollow! _Edward_!"

_It just had to be the fucking_ slums, _didn't it? That's too close for comfort. Have to make sure. I've gotta check to see if- _"A payphone!" Ed sprinted toward the booth and shoved in some cenz.

"C'mon, dammit! Work!"

Al twiddled his thumbs nervously from outside the booth. "Brother, what's wrong?"

Finally, someone picked up. **'Hello, operator speaking! Where do I patch you through?"**

* * *

"Winry, answer the phone for me please. I'm in the middle of a fitting."

"Sure thing, Granny!" The blonde mechanic slid down the banister, ignoring the glare Pinako shot at her when she knocked a picture off the wall on her way down. She bounded over to the phone jangling in the cradle a picked it up. "Rockbell Automail! How can we help you?"

'**Winry, it's me.'**

The girl started. Ed's voice sounded a little strained. "Are you okay, Ed?" She asked tentatively, trying not to set him off.

A pause, then a sigh. **'It's complicated. Listen, Winry, I-'**

Winry's worry dissipated and was replaced by a fiery rage. "You broke the freaking automail again, didn't you? What the heck, Ed! I always tell you to be careful with it, but do you listen? No! You go off and trash my masterpiece. Do you _realize_ how hard it is to make automail? You little runt, just wait 'till you get back to Resembool, I'll kick your midget ass!"

'**Winry, are you okay? Something happened in the slums and I wanted to make sure you and Granny were safe.'**

She halted in her tirade. "I- I'm fine, Ed. It was just a brush fire. There are still some hotspots but it's supposed to rain in a few days, so we're all just going to steer clear from that area."

She could practically hear him grind his teeth through the phone. **'Interesting. Well, just don't do something stupid and die**,' he barked out before handing up on her. Winry stared at the phone in her hand and rolled her eyes.

"What an idiot…"

* * *

**And there you go. More serial killer in the next chapter and maybe the homunculi will get a section.**

**Questions? Ideas, comments, and/or concerns? Click that button and make my day!**


	4. The Devil's Work

Chapter Three

The Devil's Work

_I __look alive. I'm dead inside. My heart has holes, and black blood flows._

_Hollywood Undead_

* * *

Oh, how he despised getting blood under his fingernails! By the time he finished conducting his business, the red liquid would have dried into a gritty brown mess. He quietly tisked as he stalked his prey. It's a shame that doing what he loved made him dirty…

The fact that his final target was refusing to die was making it even more irritating. Is so hard to simply let your neck get snapped? He understood the survival instinct and respected it, but _really! _

Tired of playing this pointless game of cat and mouse, he calmly plucked a knife from his belt and threw it at the man's back, letting himself grin when seeing his prey crumple to the ground with a gurgle. He stomped forward and kicked the man onto his back so he could see his face. Red eyes stared up at him with unmasked horror.

"Please sir, spare me! I have a daughter!"

He snorted. The girl was most likely a cult worshipper, what with her father running around with white hair and crimson eyes. He reached out to grasp his neck.

"I have a son!"

_Who is probably riding around in a gang wreaking havoc_, he finished in his mind dryly. _Most kids are these days._

"For Ishballa's sake man, have mercy! I have a wife!"

He stopped just as he was about to twist the man's head to the right. "You... are married?" he asked quietly, not looking at his prey.

The man nodded tightly. "Her name is Lena. She would be in pieces if you ended me. I beg you to spare my life. I will not breathe a word of this to anybody."

Still he would not meet his gaze. "May I ask you one question?" Not waiting for a reply, he said, "Do you know of a woman named Lynette Bales?"

The man underneath him shook his head. "No, not at all."

His assailant's head jerked up to meet his eyes. "She was my wife. She suffered from an unfortunate tumble down a flight of stairs."

"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss."

The condolence rang false in his ears. How he hated false apologies. They were merely to fill up awkward silences and other nonsense. Simply worthless words when people wanted to help you. Oh, but they didn't help. Far from it!

Frankly, they made him pissed.

He smiled sweetly at his prey and took his chin into his hands.

"I'll let you go now… into the blissful arms of death, that is." A crack snapped through the air, and then all was silent once more.

He stood up and dusted off his hands, as if to brush off the unpleasant aroma of death around him. The man stared down at the body and stretched, getting ready to drag it back toward the site.

* * *

After a good long swearing out from the runt, Colonel Mustang sank back down into his chair. He rubbed his eyes and groaned from the sight of all the papers thrown around in a fit of anger. So he had lied to the papers and told them it was a brushfire. No need to cause a national panic over some fool's idiotic dabbling in human transmutation. Apparently, Fullmetal's mechanic lived in the town closest to the burn site. It wasn't like the circle hadn't been _activated_, for God's sake!

He had come in here, a crimson and gold whirlwind of fury, hissing and spitting. Roy had barely appeased the midget by telling him about the Sewing Life Alchemist! Fullmetal had grabbed the file and strewn the contents across the room before spinning on his heel and stomping out the door.

He rose from his chair and began to pick up the scattered papers, meticulously placing them back in the correct order.

The Colonel rubbed his eyes some more. This was getting to be a difficult climb up the ranks. First the serial murders, then someone's gallivanting around burning taboos into the ground, and to make matters worse, he just succeeded in pissing off the dwarf. Damn that brat! Damn him to the ninth ring of hell…

* * *

Things in Liore were turning like clockwork. A riot here, a riot there, and a constant supply of bodies for Gluttony to devour. What else could you ask for?

"Lust!" The obese sin called out happily. "This man tasted good~!"

Lust gave a sultry sigh. "Wipe your mouth after you eat, Gluttony," she said, her eyes never flickering from the flames below the church tower. Gluttony quickly started rubbing at his face. He wasn't doing a very good job…

Envy stretched his back and leaned against the banister. "Things are moving along pretty smoothly," he said casually, watching a man clutch his bloody twin girls to his chest. "That Fullmetal Runt kinda pushed things along."

Lust nodded slightly. "Yes, the boy did end up helping us out here."

"He's probably going to get his face blown to bits though," the green haired sin continued. "That guy's back again, and we've already seen the kid's got a knack for stirring up shit."

She snapped her violet gaze to Envy's smirk. "You don't mean-"

"Yeah, I do."

Gluttony, who had finally managed to get the worst of the gore off his face, shivered. "Don't like that man… he scary…"

The busty woman massaged her temple. "Now there are _two_ maniacs running around Amestris."

"What do you mean two?"

Lust was now wearing a smirk of her own. "Little V's out of the loop, hmm?"

"Dammit woman, _I_ told _you_ something, so now _you_ have to tell _me_ something!" He crossed his arms. "Equivalent Exchange!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "At last check, you are not an alchemi- alright you petulant child alright! You're making cracks in the floor! Someone burned a human transmutation circle into the ground early this morning."

"He's made another homunculi? Please tell me they're not human like that other prick."

"NO, Envy, he hasn't."  
Envy leaned back against the banister once more, his brows furrowed. "Well, sorry to state the obvious Lusty cakes, but I thing we're about to have one helluva problem

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**For the love of the Gate, if you read it, review!**


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